The Nile River flowed like a ribbon of erald silk through the golden desert, nourishing the fertile black soil along its banks. Upon this divinely blessed land stood the most glorious jewel of ancient Egypt: mphis.
The ancient Egyptian capital was located in the southern part of the Nile Delta, near the village of Mastaba, at the boundary between Upper and Lower Egypt. The city's na originated from the pyramid of Pharaoh Pepi I of the Sixth Dynasty, called n-nefer. The Greeks mispronounced it as "mphis," and the na was passed down through later generations.
This city would one day possess a history spanning more than 4,700 years. It was ho to the famous Step Pyramid, the first pyramid in ancient Egypt, as well as the colossal granite statue of Rasses II and nurous other ancient monunts. These monunts alone show just how prosperous the city once was.
"Indeed...the temple chosen by the chief god, the sun god Ra, occupies the most prosperous city."
Transford into a Raven, Ian looked down upon the magnificent city from the sky. He had traveled across countless streams of ti and space, yet the prosperity of mphis left him in awe. As the first capital after the unification of Upper and Lower Egypt, mphis displayed the pinnacle of this ancient civilization with unmatched splendor and grandeur.
When the first rays of sunlight pierced the morning mist over the Nile, Ian was already circling above the city in raven form. The ancient capital of Egypt glowed like a piece of gold along the erald riverbanks under the dawn light. From above, the entire city revealed a perfect geotric layout.
"Fresh cal milk!"
"Oh, soldier sir, I just entered the city to sell so crops."
"I'm going in to buy so seeds."
"I'm different. I'm going in to see a doctor. They have the best doctors here."
The city was surrounded by tall, mud-brick walls. At the gates, crowds bustled back and forth. Soldiers clad in linen armor and holding spears watched incoming rchants and travelers with hawk-like vigilance. Neatly arranged houses stood along both sides of the streets, their roofs covered with palm leaves and their walls painted with hieroglyphs and images of gods.
The air was thick with the scents of spices, roasted at, and Nile fish mingled with incense and prayer chants drifting from distant temples. This was the heart of the pharaoh's rule, a place where gods and mortals converged. It was a flourishing tropolis where caravans, craftsn, priests, and scholars gathered. It was one of the oldest cities in human history.
At the docks, rchant ships from across the diterranean unloaded their cargo. Pottery from Crete, cedar wood from Lebanon, and gold from Nubia were skillfully carried ashore by dockworkers. rchants haggled in a mix of Egyptian and other languages, while copper coins and silver rings sparkled in the sunlight.
In the northern noble district, magnificent villas nestled among palm and pogranate trees. Their painted walls depicted scenes of hunting and banquets, displaying the owners' wealth and status. Slaves busied themselves lighting oil lamps in courtyards, preparing for the coming day.
anwhile, in the commoners' quarter, cooking smoke rose from humble mud-brick houses. Won gathered around communal ovens to bake bread for dinner and exchange stories of the day. Children chased each other through narrow alleys, oblivious to the dust that stained their plain linen tunics.
This was mphis in the 14th century BCE, a vibrant, ancient city filled with faith and desire. Here, gods and humans coexisted, and luxury and poverty stood side by side.
Of course, these were not the most eye-catching things within the temples.
They weren't Ian's destination either.
In the ancient magical world, gods were always the main the. In a world where deities truly existed, their status transcended royal authority. Thus, the temples were naturally more extravagant than royal palaces.
"The Temple of the Chief God Ra is over there."
Ian fixed his gaze on the most striking structure in the city.
Towering obelisks pierced the sky. In the city center stood the majestic Temple of the Sun God Ra. Massive stone columns carved with intricate hieroglyphs and divine figures told myths of creation.
In the square in front of the temple, priests dressed in white linen robes held censers and perford the evening sacrificial rites.
Wisps of blue smoke curled upward and intertwined with the rising sunlight, casting a mysterious aura over the entire scene. Near the city, nurous pyramids could also be seen.
The pyramids' origin could indeed be traced back to this era, and even earlier. Before the Third Dynasty of Egypt's Old Kingdom, the dead were buried in rectangular mud-brick tombs known to the ancient Egyptians as "mastabas," whether they were nobles or commoners.
Later, Imhotep, a brilliant young man, invented a brand-new architectural thod for constructing royal mausoleums while designing the tomb for Pharaoh Djoser.
He transported square-cut stones down from the mountain to replace the mud bricks and constantly revised the tomb's design. Ultimately, he constructed a six-tiered, quadrangular, stepped pyramid, the prototype of the pyramids we see today. Not all pyramids were enormous; so were built on a much smaller scale.
"I should gather so information about this place first."
Ian landed quietly in a narrow alley, a backstreet forgotten by sunlight. Dust covered the stone pavent, and clay jars and firewood were piled in the corners. He swiftly resud his human form, straightened his robes, and pulled his cloak higher to hide his magical aura.
Through Transfiguration, Ian had transford into a figure dressed in linen robes styled after ancient Egypt, indistinguishable from the locals. Only his pair of green eyes, gleaming with intelligence, revealed that he was far from ordinary.
"Ancient clothing really isn't breathable, but it does have its own charm."
Ian inhaled deeply, a faint smile curving his lips.
"Speaking of charm, one needs a full stomach to have the strength to work."
He murmured softly.
"It's ti to taste the cuisine of ancient Egypt."
Whenever he ca across a tavern in ancient tis, he would always make a point of stepping inside. Having not eaten properly for quite so ti, Ian decided to reward his stomach.
He adjusted his clothing once more to ensure that his wand was safely hidden in a specially tailored pocket in his sleeve. Then, he calmly walked toward the tavern's main entrance.
The tavern stood at the corner of a main street. A string of bronze wind chis hung in the doorway and produced crisp, pleasant sounds whenever the wind blew through them.
Several plainly dressed craftsn and rchants stood near the entrance, chatting cheerfully while holding clay goblets. Ian pushed the door open. The interior of the tavern was far more spacious than it appeared from the outside. Low wooden tables and chairs surrounded an open kitchen in the center of the room. Hunting tools and preserved river fish specins hung from the walls.
It was already cleaner than many takeaway shops of later generations.
Compared to the outside, the lighting inside the tavern was dim. Several oil lamps hung from the beams, casting flickering shadows. The air was filled with the aromas of beer and roasted at.
Most of the tables were already occupied by rchants, craftsn, a few n who looked like minor officials, and several heavily made-up dancers who were teasing custors at certain seats.
Indeed, that profession deserved its title as the oldest in human history. Ironically, a mural of the sun god Ra was painted on the wall, and a small statue of Thoth was placed on the altar.
"As long as you pay, you can conduct business right under the gods' noses, huh?" Realistic. Reasonable."
Ian ignored the won attempting to latch onto him and extract money.
His nose twitched slightly.
Cheap incense burned in a censer sowhere nearby. As he walked toward the counter, he noticed scribes in robes, weather-beaten caravan travelers, and a few priests speaking in hushed tones. In the corner, a bard plucked at a harp and sang ancient ballads about pharaohs and war.
"Even though this era doesn't have chicken essence or MSG, hunger is the best seasoning."
Ian muttered to himself, rubbing his empty stomach.
Ever since he arrived in this era through the Ti-Turner, he hadn't had a proper al. Ancient Egyptian cuisine had been described in History of Magic as mouthwatering.
Now, he finally had the chance to experience it firsthand.
"Hello, I'd like sothing to eat."
Ian chose a seat near the kitchen, yet still within earshot of the main hall. A plump waitress imdiately approached him, sizing up the unfamiliar guest with an appraising gaze.
"Welco to 'The Eye of the Nile,' sir. What would you like?" Her voice was slightly hoarse yet pleasant; her fingers idly toyed with the amulet hanging around her neck.
Working in the service industry in a city like this required sharp judgnt. Without that instinct, one needed so external ans to identify a custor's status.
At that mont, the woman's amulet grew warm. This ant that this guest was not soone to be trifled with.
Ian replied in fluent Ancient Egyptian.
"Bring your best stew, so fresh bread, and a pot of palm wine. If you have any roasted at, I'll have so of that as well."
He added a slight Thebes accent to explain the subtle differences in his appearance compared to the locals, though it hardly mattered.
"Anything else?"
The waitress understood that as long as she focused solely on fulfilling the guest's requests, everything would be fine. She asked no further questions.
Ian glanced at the nu and ordered "Kushkush," an ancient Egyptian dessert made from wheat, honey, and walnuts. He also ordered a plate of grilled fish and so walnut-based dishes.
He mainly ordered them because the table beside him was eating them, and they looked rather delicious.
A starving young wizard would do the sa, wanting to take a bite of everything he saw. After all, these were ancient delicacies. Once he returned to the future, he would probably never taste them again.
But it wasn't wasteful because Ian could finish it all.
"Very well, please wait a mont." The waitress nodded and turned away. Ian's gaze swept across the tavern's patrons while he caught fragnts of conversation.
Two rchants were arguing heatedly about taxes on Nubian gold mines. A group of craftsn complained about excessive overti on recent temple construction projects, but they were quickly silenced by sharp glares from nearby priests. In the corner, a one-eyed veteran recounted his thrilling battles against the Hittites to several young listeners.
The food arrived quickly. The main dish was a fragrant bowl of stewed lamb cooked with lentils, onions, and a blend of spices Ian couldn't na. The bread was crispy on the outside and soft on the inside, still warm from the oven. The palm wine tasted sweeter than expected but had a strong aftereffect.
Who said that ancient tis lacked fine cuisine?
It was all there.
The idea that soone could conquer the ancient world just by adding chicken essence or MSG is pure fantasy.
"Hoot hoothoot hoot~"
As Ian enjoyed his al, he continued gathering information. Suddenly, the conversation of three young n dressed as priests at the neighboring table caught his attention.
"I heard the High Priest flew into a rage again last night," a tall, thin young man whispered. "All the sacred scarab statues inside the temple turned westward on their own. No one dares to touch them."
"Shh!" His companion whispered, glancing around nervously. "Don't talk about that in public. Do you know how many people have been thrown into the dungeons lately for talking too much?"
The third priest gulped down a mouthful of beer and said drunkenly, "Who cares! Ra hasn't manifested for a long ti anyway. I've heard that even the pharaoh is starting to wonder if we've offended the sun god."
Ian's eyebrow lifted slightly. Sacred scarab statues turning westward of their own accord? That was not a good on. In ancient Egyptian symbolism, the west represented death. Ra's silence was even more intriguing. According to historical records, this era should have been a period of religious revival.
As he pondered the implications, a sudden commotion erupted at the tavern entrance. A ragged, half-mad old man burst in, waving a strangely decorated staff.
"Disaster is coming!" the old man croaked hoarsely. "When Ra closes his eyes, darkness will swallow the Nile! I see flas rising from the pyramids! I see crocodiles swimming through the streets!"
The tavern owner imdiately brought two burly n forward who roughly dragged the old man outside. Amid the chaos, however, Ian sharply noticed the peculiar amulet hanging around the old man's neck.
A blue gemstone shaped like an eye shimred with an eerie glow under the oil lamps.
A Fragnt of Ra's Eye?
No.
To Alchemy Master Ian, it was clearly a counterfeit. The craftsmanship was crude. However, there was no mistaking that it was a clue related to the Fragnt of Ra's Eye.
After all...
The existence of such a replica ant that whoever created the amulet must have co into contact with the real Fragnt of Ra's Eye. Otherwise, they wouldn't have been able to imitate its divine-like fluctuation.
With that thought...
Ian quickly settled his bill, leaving a few copper rings as a tip, and quietly followed outside. The old man had been thrown into a back alley and was now lying on the ground, muttering to himself. Ian crouched down and asked gently, "Sir, the amulet around your neck is quite unique. May I ask where you obtained it?"
At those words, the old man suddenly looked up. A trace of clarity flashed through his clouded eyes.
"You can see it?"
He asked in astonishnt before growing wary again. "No, it was given to by Ra. It lets see the truth, see the coming disaster..."
This was certainly not Ra's artifact.
The old man had likely fallen victim to a wizard's scam.
Exposing fraudsters was a thankless task, though, and Ian had no intention of doing so. The amulet wasn't entirely useless, though. It was more or less an alchemical imitation.
Because it mimicked divine fluctuations, it could reveal glimpses of the future, though the accuracy of those visions depended entirely on the skill of the craftsman.
If the workmanship was poor, what one saw might be nothing but chaotic illusions or discarded destinies. The exact nature of this would require Ian to examine the amulet personally.
"Relax, I'm a good person. I'm just curious."
Seeing that the old man was ntally unstable, Ian cast a small spell to cleanse his mind and reveal his identity as a wizard.
Thus...
Under the man's uncertain and suspicious gaze, Ian uttered an awkwardly phrased sentence:
"May I touch your treasure?"
(End of Chapter)
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